


Invasion

by AsTheDayDies



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alien Invasion, Aliens, Gen, Invasion, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:38:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4141545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsTheDayDies/pseuds/AsTheDayDies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amelia Grey, agent of the Alliance, is at Alliance headquarters the day the Reapers arrive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invasion

Life moved on as it always did. Boots shuffled through metals halls, the clacking and conversations mingling into the sounds of everyday life. Shuttles drifted lazily through the atmosphere, the hissing docking clamps releasing cut through the air. There were no signs, no warning for those on the ground.

The earth rumbled, knocking several around her to their knees. She stumbled, more out of shock than lack balance. With a groan, the central building crumpled into itself, floor compacting into floor. As the avalanche of rubble rushed their way, some were too stunned to react. She ran, boots scraping the cement as she darted out in the opposite direction.

A loud, droning noise shook her to her core and covered the sounds of the screaming. Ships she had only known in rumor to exist were drifting down to Earth, a trail of burning debris behind them.  How did they get past the defenses? How many outposts were already gone?

Near the Alliance headquarters, troops were gathering their wits and rushing through the rubble, making their way to the armament stations. Amelia’s wide eyes locked onto the nearest depot, a small, outdoor square separating her from the weapons. She looked out from the cover, quickly scanning the surroundings before darting out into the bare terrain. The earth lurched, throwing her sideways. Bits of dirt and cement rained noisily down on her. She looked up, shielding her eyes from the falling debris.

A Reaper ship, its mandible-like claws ripping the earth. Her breath caught in her throat and her chest tightened.

“ _They’re . . . they’re here_.”

A red beam, bright and whining, shot from the ship and tore through the buildings. As the pieces began to fall, Amelia pushed herself to her feet in desperation, fighting to gain traction on the torn earth. Half stumbling, half running, she rushed to the nearest entrance.

Her omni-tool was unable to make the lock respond, too much damage having been done to be controls. She pushed against the door, but debris had blocked the entrance.

She cursed, pounding both fists against it.

The building shook again, and several large beams crushed against the building. She quickly scaled the rubble and traversed the beams, dropping herself onto the inside of the structure.

Small fires had erupted throughout, smoke filling the air that the debris had missed. Crushed bodies in brilliant blue and gold uniforms littered the demolished halls, broken and bleeding. She covered her mouth and nose in her sleeve and slipped through the rubble until she had made her way to the nearest weapons depot. A handful of other Alliance soldiers had made the trip as well and were trying to decide on a plan of action. She looked at their uniforms with an efficient eye.

Miller, S-1. Jacobs, N-1. Ramirez, new recruit, Soto, new recruit.

“ _That makes me senior officer.”_ Amelia thought with a sigh.

It was up to her to get them out alive.

“Listen up, soldiers,” Amelia started, wasting no time getting her hands on an assault rifle. “We’re dealing with close quarters. No time to get a nice shot lined up. Grab something you’re comfortable with, something you can think on your feet with. We’ll be moving fast, and we don’t know how long it will be before we can find a lift.” She reached for a belt, strapping on ammunition and placing the heavy pylon at the small of her back.

Garbled warnings rang across the screens, only to be cut short by an eerie static.

“ _We’re cut off_.”

“Lt. Grey,” Jacobs, the second highest officer began, “west-north-west, a large group of civilians were caught in the rubble.”

“There’s a dock just two blocks from that position, sir,” Ramirez spoke up, her voice quavering a bit, but otherwise handling the pressure well. Amelia hoped that held up.

Amelia pondered the information a moment, the ground shaking beneath them. Above, a threatening rumble sent a shower of dirt down on them.  
  
“You’re sure they’re alive?” Amelia asked him, hesitant to head in the opposite direction of where the most help was located.

He nodded.

“Suit up. On my mark.”

With Amelia at point, the squad made slow headway, having to push through rubble in order to avoid the larger threat just outside.

“There!” Jacobs noted, pointing to a large glass building that had been half demolished. Through the large, clear windows, Amelia’s adapted eyes could see at least a hundred citizens packed together on the ground floor, trapped by debris. They were screaming, crying, and gripping one another in sheer terror. On the outside, clamoring mindlessly with only hunger to drive them were piles of husks scraping up the glass. It would not be long before they found a way in, leaving the unequipped civilians a terrible possibility.

“We have to get them away from the building,” Ramirez quipped.

Amelia nodded. Yes, they did. But there were only a few ways to make that happen, and none of them she liked.

“Jacobs,” she called, ripping two grenades from her belt. “You’ll need these to make a break for those people.”

He looked at her sideways, acknowledgement casting a dark shadow across his features.

“I’m counting on you to get them out. I know you can do it, N-1. Soto! Ramirez!” she barked, and the two new recruits stood at attention if not somewhat shakily. “You and Jacobs will cross behind and to the right, making an exit for the civilians at the rear. Miller?”

“Lieutenant?” he asked with a salute, a resolute expression on his face.

“I need you to take a position with a clear shot of this area. I’m counting on you to cover me.” She handed him the Widow. Not too many humans could handle the weapon’s kick, but at the moment, it was their only option.

“Sir?”

“Our goal is to get those civilians out one way or another, Miller.” She breathed out heavily, her eyes hardened and focused on the pile of a husks lurching for the building. “This . . . is another.”

“Yes, sir.”

Amelia gave the squad the go ahead, and slowly they began to make their way behind the rubble and out of sight of the Reapers.

She pulled in her lips, biting it absently and bending her knees as she counted down.

_“A hundred yards . . . eighty . . . sixty . . .”_

She signaled to Miller, and he saluted.

“N-7 . . .” he replied quietly, somberly.

She nodded back in equal fashion.

This was a suicide mission.

She circled around the opposite side, cutting through the open turf at top speed, despite the heavy equipment on her back. In the center of the field, she slid to her knees, cutting deep rivets into the soft loam. With practice, she mounted her pylon. Pulling out her omni-tool, she began to program it, sweat dripping onto the interface with a sizzle.

The crack of a sniper rifle split through the air, but Amelia spared no glances at confirming the hit. She could only do her part and hope that he did his.

The programing complete, she stood with a grunt and made a mad dash to the nearest building on the other side of the pylon and –importantly- in the opposite direction of where the civilians were trapped. Her experienced gaze took in the building, its support structure and its exposed weaknesses.

As she bent down to place a mine, a knobby Reaper, hunched and bent over, screeched as it dove at her, its maw wide open. She reached out with her left arm, but her human arm was too weak and it began to cave under the mass of the creature. With a great heave, she brought around her other arm, omni-tool prepared with a deadly blade and cut its throat. A few more cracks of the widow sounded, and she knew her time was short. After scrambling to place the mines, she walked out, void of any weapons save her belt of grenades.

She _would_ have their attention.

With deadly aim, she arched the grenades into a pile of husks, sending them flying avoiding the building. Two more lobs got their attention, and a mad torrent of the zombie-like creatures stampeded her way. She planted her feet into the grass, counting down again. Her eyes spared a moment to glance at the rear of the building, and she could not help but grin as the civilians began to pour out of the rear, her squad keeping their cover as best they could.

The husks were halfway over the gap, scurrying over her pylon like ants. Suddenly, a loud pop sent dozens of them flying into pieces. But it did not stop the rest. They continued on, madly bent on eating her.

She sent in two more grenades, and launched a seeking grenade from her omni-tool. With those homing in on her targets, she dove into the building and rushed out the other side. Without looking back, she kept running to the nearest overhang and hoping her calculations were correct.

“ _When I die, I’m taking you with me_.”

The mindless husks struggled to get in the building, but eventually began to find ways in and even up the structure. She spared a look over her shoulder as she ran, watching the mindless forms tumble over one another. A silent _countdown was taking place in her mind._

 _“Four . . . three . ._ .” her feet pounded against the turf. “ _two . ._ “

Her lip curled sideways in a sneer.

“ _Screw off, you ba-“_

Another rumble shook the ground, throwing her forward. With precision, the building fell on the majority, trapping the rest of the mindless husks inside. She hit her head, and black caved in, and she comforted herself with the thought that, in the end, she took out as many as she could.

A few large chunks of building dropped near her, and she felt her heart pound against her ribcage with a jolt of adrenaline.

“… _What?_ ”

She opened her eyes and stood, stumbling blindly until her vision cleared.  Blood was trickling down the side of her head, and she was fairly certain she had a concussion judging by the strong urge to sleep. The remainder of the structure crumbled. Somehow it had been a success. “ _And I’m still alive_.” Her mind raced to Miller, and she circled around the rear, converging on Miller’s position. When she arrived, she was greeted by a grizzly sight.

Miller, in order to maintain accuracy of his shot, had wedged himself against a corner beam, stabilizing the muzzle using some rubble. The first recoil had obviously shattered his shoulder. Then second, third, fourth and fifth shots . . . Amelia was no doctor, but even she had doubts that it was beyond repair. His collarbone protruded from the skin grotesquely, and the look in his eyes told her he had lost a lot blood.

“Can you move?” she asked him, trying to help him keep focused. Another shot of red lit up the sky followed by the rumble of crumbling buildings. The fallen rafters overhead creaked and moaned, screeching as they slid down the cement structure like savage claws. A beam fell near them, too close, and Amelia knew they did not have much time. The building was coming down.

His head bobbed and drooped as he clung to consciousness.

“Hey, hey!” she smacked his cheek, pulling his attention to the present. “Stay with me, soldier. Miller, stay with me.”

He gave her a crooked, groggy smile. “I . . . don’t know how . . h-how you do it,” he sputtered.

Her brows furrowed. “Do what?” she asked, playing off his thought, hoping to keep him talking.

“S-stay alive . . .”

Her chest sank. She’d had a reputation for many things during her time with Cerberus and the Alliance, but none more frustrating than the lack of attention death had shown her. While everyone else was able to make a clean exit from this world, she was left to be the only surviving witness of their last moments. It was never a report she liked making.

“You’re getting out of this alive, soldier,” she said aloud, but cursed inwardly. How many people had she lied to in their last moments? Did it make the transition from this world easier? She never got to ask them.

With a final screech, the beam overhead fell, and Amelia dove for cover. It landed with a crashing clamor, and she cried out in pain. A piece of gnarled metal had wedged her foot in place, surely breaking it. She twisted her body to see and the worst was confirmed. Trapped hopelessly under the metal was Miller. She could barely make out his expression, but it seemed to be one of peace.

Her jaw clenched, the muscles standing out on her pale neck as she exerted every ounce of strength she had. But still her foot remained pinned. She breathed heavily and rapidly, squeaks of pain emitting involuntarily from her throat. She sat up and with shaking hands unfastened the leather belt around her waist. With a few quick breaths to gather her nerve, she pressed the belt in her mouth and clamped down. She looked at her foot and cinched her eyes.

With a quick twist of her adapted arm, she broke the bone further, tears streaming down her face as her teeth cut through the leather. Slowly she inched herself out of the rubble, leaving her boot behind. Moaning and panting, she was left dragging herself across the rubble by her elbows. Finally free of the trap, she now had to find some way to make it to the docks.

It took much effort, but she pulled herself to an upright position. She assessed the damage to her right foot, grimacing as she noted the unnatural angle and how it hung from her leg limply. The bodies around her were no longer in need of earthly possessions. She hobbled to the nearest corpse and removed the right boot. It took a great deal of effort to cinch her misshapen foot into it securely, and it was painful, but it would do. With each step sending fire through her nerves, she staggered from the building, looking for a clear shot to send a flair.

As she left the building, she could make sight of the shuttles lifting into the air. Jacobs and Ramirez were perched at the opening, weapons poised and ready. She sighed a small sigh of relief and reach for her flair. She pulled the trigger.

A sharp red light cut through the air, ripping through the shuttle. With mouth agape, she witnessed as the burning pieces and bodies fell back down to the earth.

For a moment, she was too stunned to think, too numb to care that the death ray may have blotted out any sight of her flair. But as realization fell, she dropped to her knees and slowly crumpled prone, splayed out on the ground in preparation for death.

“ _Come and get me already!_ ”

Through the haze of pain, a gust of air, tainted with the smell of smoke and fuel, blew dirt in her face. With effort, she pushed herself up to find a shuttle hovering nearby. The man at the mouth of the ramp was urging, forceful, waving her to the ship.

“Let’s go, N-7!” the booming voice of Anderson called out.

With the last of her energy, she pulled herself aright and shambled across the space until she lurched onto the ramp.

“Let’s go, go!” he called to the pilot, and the shuttle took off through the air.

As they left the city, she caught a wider view, able to take in all of the damage. Giant ships latched onto the earth. She thought they looked like giant, metal fleas. Smoke poured into the sky, and as they left the atmosphere, she could see the burning orange of destruction spread out across the curve of Earth. Earth was burning.

And death had not yet welcomed her.

In and out of consciousness, she caught bits and pieces of information, filling in the spaces. London, Tokyo, Brazil . . . major cities of military populations destroyed, contact cut. They had been told about the Reapers, about the possibility. But the Council had written off Saren as a kook, a fraud gripped by an imaginative cause. They had prevented Sheppard from doing more, and Saren had opened up the doors for the Reapers to come to Earth. And what had they done? Nothing. They would not answer. Not for Earth. Not for humanity.

_“We have to take care of ourselves.”_

She knew she had to try, at least try, to save Earth. The council races would not lift a finger until the Reapers were at their doorstep, and even then, they’d be begging for the Alliance for assistance.

As the black pulled her deeper, she resolved to herself, “ _I will die trying to help humanity_.” With the hopeful thought that death would finally find her, she let go of the outside world, falling into the black.

Humanity, after all, was all she had left.

 

 


End file.
